Patience; the new endurance sport.

So, we pack up the car with every single thing imagineable (umbrellas, floats, watermelons, sheets, distilled water, an electric frying pan,etc.) I'm riding in the back with desk lamps and rolled up towels falling onto my head from the stuff piled high in the far back of the van every time my Aunt brakes at a four way stop or merges into traffic.  We're finally on our way to Myrtle Beach. Then my cousin, says from the front seat, how she'd spent the whole flight into town next to this  total "North Carolina Hick" on the flight.  So from the back, I look at the crazy mengerie in the car, thinking we looked more like Oakies esaping the dust bowl than people going on a beach trip, and I say sarcastically "Sure, those North Carolina hicks are totally different than those South Carolina hicks" as I lift my feet to make room for the watermelon rolling across the floorboard.  However, we arrived at the beach and instinctively gulped big breaths of the thick salt air, and then drove immediately to Walmart...Like I said, those South Carolina Hicks (Walmart) are totally not like the North Carolina Hicks (Piggly Wiggely).   Anyway, as the sun rose in front of the beachhouse this morning, the tide was so low, all the flat sand allowed runners and walkers to form a two lane highway.  I ran from pier to pier (4 miles/ 9:38) and then up to the inlet where North Myrtle Beach is pristine and undeveloped.  I stood on the inlet and watched as the tide came in and thought "This is the place of my mother's childhood."  And, somehow I could feel in my veins, while standing there, the same heady freedom and sultry optimism she must have felt as a young teenage girl spending summers on these beaches.      

I am on the back porch of the beach house sitting in a white rocking chair under the spell of profound peace and tranquility. The sea oats growing on the dunes are blowing in the breeze and just over their bowing heads, the ocean is silver green and restless.   The constant crashing of the waves, has, as it always does, washed clean my mind.  Today I ran 8.2 miles just by heading south and turning around at 4.1 miles.  The tide was not out as far this morning, and so I had to run on the softer sand.  As I ran down the beach, I passed people doing Yoga, Tai Chi, fast and slow runners, walkers, and fishermen.  The day was overcast, and actually rained as I ran, so I felt I could run for longer.  I'm still only averaging 9:32's with a pretty good deal of effort, but at least I'm feeling stronger. One of my best friends in all the world, her husband and their family (who also happen to be havng a family reunion here in Myrtle Beach) dropped by this morning and we all walked to the inlet with the kids, and caught hundreds of hermet crabs in the tide pools.  We spent the morning swimmng and then ate sandwiches on the beach under the umbrellas.  Now, they've gone, and as I sit on the porch in the cleansing wind,  listening to the far off thunder, I await the arrival of my big sis.  She is driving down from DC and bound to arrive at any moment.  This may be the best day in the world; to be loved and cherished by my aunt, cousins, best friends, and my sister all in one day.  Also, did I mention I'm at the beach?  

Because of high tide, I had to run on the softer sand again today, which made running hard.  All the runners had to use a thin strip of semi-hard sand and avoid getting their shoes wet or having to run in the softer stuff.  My shoes are going to be ruined by the time I'm out of here.  I've had a fun time looking at all the different size and shapes of runners.  I've not seen very many women runners.  Lots of men with hairy backs running without shirts, and also young, wiry athletic types who pass me up from behind.  I've had a couple of men pass me, only to stop and turn back to stop and look.  The men here, in general are funny.  If you walk down to the beach and drop something, at least 2-3 will get out of their beach chairs to pick up whatever you dropped, or when digging a hole for the umbrella you'll get kind offers to help you dig.  I only lived here in the South for 11/2 years when I was young.  But maybe I'd be more of a lady if I'd been raised around here.  Or as my husband says "Mas senorita, menos bruja".

I refuse to feel guilty about having such a good time. You can not make me feel bad.  I only get one vacation a year.   I can't help it if my assistant at work overhears the crashing waves in the back ground when she calls and asks where I am.  I just happen to know how to be on vacation, well me....and my sister too.  So it's like vacation squared (or pi as the case may be).  Anyway,  I ran my 8 miles this morning--and to just to vindicate my judgement of the shirtless, oogling hairy-backed men is my observation of the middle-aged women who walk (vigorously, I might add) while wearing less than an adequate foundation under their tank tops or "athletic wear"-- and I use "quotation marks" with irony.  Yep. Over here they got it all, including the country's premier miniature golf courses.  Seventeen mile drive's got nothin' on Myrtle Beach. I'll bet  you they don't even have a Walmart.